


the face of an angel, the heart of a ghost

by theredhoodie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, POV Multiple, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhoodie/pseuds/theredhoodie
Summary: One night, years into their careers as Avengers, Wanda Maximoff and Bucky Barnes go to Philadelphia for a simple mission. It turns into much more than a cut-and-dry mission as one of the men they're after pulls out the Winter Soldier's trigger phrase, leaving the outcome of the mission up in the air.





	the face of an angel, the heart of a ghost

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My usual weird movie/comic mashup. Everyone lives in the compound (a compromise between fanon Tower living, and canon that everyone lives at the Avengers Compound). Some events were syphoned from Civil War and Winter Solider. Wanda/Bucky ended up getting a comic!Buckynat vibe and I’m okay with that.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS. The title is from Dangerous Love by 30STM, which was requested of me to make a [Bucky/Wanda vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scDpo5Uxq2I), which in turn inspired me to write this fic haha. So feel free to [watch the video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scDpo5Uxq2I) after you're done reading! (or before.)

PRESENT

_**Bucky** _

"James?"

Bucky sucked in a short breath and turned. Wanda leaned into the room, expecting him to be suited up already. "Hey," he said, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. "The jet ready?"

"Yes," she said, walking into the room. As per usual, she was dressed in all red. Red like her eyes, red like the magic on her hands that let her do astounding things. "Do you need some help?"

He glanced down at the buckles still hanging open on his left side. In a blink, they moved on their own accord, surrounded by a crackling red mist, weaving and clipping themselves into place. "Thanks," he said, looking up at her as she walked close. "I think?"

Wanda smoothed the frown on his brow with delicate fingers before taking the last buckle at his hip into her hands and closing it herself. "You are welcome." She lingered there, hands on the front of his uniform, head tilted just so, until even he could hear the muffled voices coming through the com already in her ear. "We have to go."

Bucky nodded and followed her out into the corridor. Familiar faces of the handful of staff that helped keep the Avengers Compound running were in the halls. Most of the Avengers were out on mission. Clint and Natasha in Mongolia. Steve, Sam and Vision in San Francisco. Banner was with T'Challa in Wakanda. Some of them were the part-timers who didn't live at the Compound, like Scott Lang and Peter Parker. Bucky had been enjoying a nearly empty place with Wanda for company for almost two whole days.

Their transport was waiting out on the grounds. One of the crew handed Wanda a box on her way in. She glanced over her shoulder and handed it to him. Nestled inside was a single com device that he took and put in place.

They strapped in next to each other. Wanda pressed her soft, warm palm against his metal hand, and by the time they were level in the air, his fingers wrapped gently around hers.

"This feels more like a Clint and Natasha gig than one for us," Bucky mentioned, adjusting the com in his ear.

Wanda's eyes seemed drawn to the small part of the windshield she could see from her seat. "Is there something wrong with Philadelphia?"

"No," Bucky shrugged. "But neither of us are known for our…subtlety."

She narrowed her eyes a little and then shook her head, settling back into the seat. "I think we've gotten better."

"Oh, definitely."

"Aren't there many monuments and buildings important to Americans in the city? Don't you want to protect them?"

"Yeah, of course. I just feel like Clint and Natasha could have handled a few human homeland terrorists. Weren't the reports in Mongolia more…super?"

Wanda shrugged and took her hand from his to unbuckle herself. She stretched her legs and grabbed a STARK tablet locked into place across the cabin. She pressed a few buttons and the screen brought up a number of files. He could see it all backwards through the clear screen.

"This, you mean?" She sat so she could share the screen with him. In Mongolia, there were reports of not only giant sinkholes but also buildings inexplicitly being reduced to rubble overnight with no Richter readings.

Bucky nodded, taking the device and swiping through a number of news reports about it. "Doesn't finding a new superpowered person sound like more fun than stopping a few guys in ski-masks from stealing the Liberty Bell?"

Wanda arched an eyebrow. "I don't know what that is."

Bucky didn't even bother hiding his amused smile. "That's exactly my point."

"They're all important missions, James." She took the tablet back and closed the screens, setting it aside on the seat next to her. "Are you thinking about going into freelance? Like Clint and Scott?"

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but the pilot interrupted, saying they had to get ready for an air drop-off. It was night all around them, purple sky like a bruise. They were just high enough to see the stars away from the city's light pollution.

Getting to his feet, Bucky mulled over a response. He enjoyed working with the Avengers, having purpose and stopping people like he used to be. But he could stretch the rules more if he went off on his own. But more time away would mean more time away from Wanda. The Avengers were her family, he knew she wouldn't leave them.

Instead of answering, he watched her as she checked her uniform and her com. She was so sure of herself, totally in control of her power, her life; it was the kind of thing that reminded Bucky of why he stayed with the Avengers. They helped keep him in line.

"Why don't we grab some dinner after?" Bucky said finally, joining her near the edge of the ramp.

"Like a date?" she mused. "What is Philadelphia known for?"

"There's a sandwich named after the city," Bucky said. "Don't think it's Kosher though, so we can just grab some pizza."

She smiled softly as the ramp cracked open, filling the cabin with roaring winds. "I do love pizza," she said as he started down the ramp.

Bucky cracked a smile of his own and took a few steps backward as the ramp opened farther. "I know," he said before stepping off into the ramp and into the air.

 

 

 

 

 

FIVE YEARS AGO

_**Wanda** _

"We gotta go." It wasn't like Steve Rogers to burst into her room, so she instantly knew something was wrong. Barely a few months after the near destruction of her homeland, Wanda was still getting a handle on her powers, but had found companionship with both Steve and Natasha, who didn't treat her like a criminal.

That was all about to change.

"What's going on?" she asked, lacing up her boots as fast as she could. Unlike the other two agents, she didn't need any special weapons to fight. She  _was_  the weapon.

"Someone's trying to frame me," Steve continued, walking over to her window and forcibly closing the blinds. "Fury is dead. You, Nat and I are all that's left of the Avengers. We gotta  _go now_."

She thought, for a moment, that this would be much easier and faster with Pietro. The thought sent a pang to her heart, cracking what little mending she'd progressed through in the past few weeks.

Digging her nails into her palms, she followed Steve out of the building and met Natasha waiting with a car down in the garage. She clambered into the back, thinking, not for the first time, how maybe this wasn't the smartest idea. Joining the Avengers and all that.

"What about Tony Stark?" Wanda still held a grudge against the man and that probably would never change, but he was supposed to be friends with Steve, shouldn't he help them?

"Tony would never put himself in a spotlight that would name him a criminal," Natasha said from behind the wheel. "He has a whole company to think about."

Wanda gripped the car door as they took a sharp turn and then squealed to a stop. Up ahead were matte black SHIELD SUVs and a scattering of agents with guns pointed in their direction.

"Shit," Natasha hissed, gunning their car into reverse.

With a sharp intake of breath, Wanda put up a shimmery red shield between them and the agents, blocking the bullets until they were a safe distance away.

"What did you do?" Wanda gasped out.

In the driver's seat, Natasha smirked. "I think she means you, Steve."

"Pierce thinks I helped kill Fury," Steve finally said as they slipped under a tunnel. The dimness and the flashing lights lining the ceiling wrapped around them in the small car. "And then he sent a special team to arrest me and now we're up to speed."

Wanda frowned as they turned sharply onto an entrance ramp, following the twisted road up into the light. The brightness hurt her eyes, but she blinked until they adjusted.

Just in time for a missile to come from somewhere behind them. It hit the road in front of them in an explosion. Natasha hissed and swerved and the civilians in the cars around them also swerved and beeped and slammed on breaks to get out of the way.

"Who the hell is  _that_?" Steve exclaimed, twisting around in the passenger seat.

"Friends of Pierce," Natasha growled.

Wanda gripped the back of the seat and squinted through the blaring sun at the large black military vehicle coming up on them quickly. It had to be some sort of tank hybrid, because someone was standing up through the roof, rocket launcher on his shoulder.

Another missile released, but Wanda managed to grab it midair and send it flying up into the sky where it detonated and didn't hurt anyone. It wasn't as easy to stop the volley of bullets from a machine gun that came next. She sunk down in the seat and Natasha shoved a gun in Steve's hand.

"Use it," she instructed, though they both knew Steve was more about defensive than offensive fighting.

He didn't protest this time, using his shield and sending just enough bullets to stop the tank. It skidded to a halt thanks to a perfectly placed bullet in a tire.

"We need to get out of here," Natasha said, their car still drivable. For now.

The man from the tank launched himself through the air, landing on the roof. Steve barely had time to lift his shield to block the bullets forced through the roof. Wanda yelped and Natasha slammed on the breaks.

Wanda peaked over the dashboard as the man landed on his feet like a cat on the road and stopped himself from skidding farther by digging  _metal fingers_  into the concrete.

"Crap," Natasha whispered.

"Do you know who that is?" Steve asked.

"The Winter Soldier," the redhead replied. "Get out of the car NOW!"

Working in tandem, Steve blocked shots with his shield and Natasha pulled out another gun to shoot back toward the tank. With a grunt of effort, Wanda pushed their dilapidated car toward the Winter Soldier as fast as she could, giving them just enough time to get to the street below.

Steve jumped, landing on the roof of a car below and rolling safely to the ground. Wanda steadied herself with her own magic and Natasha used a grappling hook. Before their feet even hit the pavement, another rocket blaster was raised above on the overpass, blasting into the street and upturning a city bus. Civilians screamed and ran and Wanda did her best to keep up a shield as Steve and Natasha ran for the bus for cover.

The volley of bullets stopped for a brief moment, and Wanda twisted around, searching the overpass where heads and shoulders of rough looking men bobbed with large guns tossed over their shoulders.

She didn't have much field experience. Hell, just a few months ago when she started all this magic with her fingers and hands and mind, she'd been fighting  _against_  the Avengers. But then she realized that Ultron was the enemy, and changed her ways. They had saved her city just barely, repressing what could have turned into another world war. Since then, she'd had training, and two small missions.

This was not like either of those missions. This was haphazard and they didn't have the backing of SHIELD or the other Avengers.

Caught up and growing tired from extending her powers so much in a short amount of time, she could do nothing but hold her ground and put up a large enough shield to stop the rapid bullets coming down from the hands of the man in the mask.

The other men seemed to disappear—or were taken out?—by some unknown party, but Wanda was too caught up to focus on that. Instead, she watched with a spike of fear as the Winter Soldier vaulted over the side of the overpass and smashed to bits the car that Steve had already dented. There was something dark and brutal about him that made her freeze.

She should know better than to freeze.

From behind her, Steve launched his shield, distracting the metal armed man just enough for her to slip away to the bus.

"What were you doing?" Natasha asked furiously.

"Who is that?" Wanda countered, just as someone  _flew_  through the air. With wings.

Natasha shrugged. "Steve called in a favor. Let's not waste the distraction. We have to take the Winter Soldier down. You have my back?"

Wanda grit her teeth and nodded. "Yes."

 

 

 

 

 

PRESENT

_**Wanda** _

Wanda shook her head in amusement and followed James out of the plane. He had a lot of faith in her to jump out of a plane without a parachute. But parachutes caused extra debris and more things to hinder their stealthy entrance.

The wind attacked her clothes and her hair and she kept her eye on her partner, gathering up her concentration to slow them both before they hit the ground.

Once they passed through the last misty cloud, she slowed herself first with great bursts of red from her palms to right herself. She created a shield around her feet to push aside the air; it looked as if she were burning through the atmosphere. For James, she lifted her hand, palm up, fingers curled, and created a similar shield almost around his entire body.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled and pushed against the forces of nature as the ground started to come into focus beneath them. She strengthened James's shield as he got close and watched him easily take the small impact in stride, rolling against the grass and ending up on his feet.

Wanda didn't roll, but she didn't break her ankles either. She stumbled a few steps before swiping away the excess red clinging to her legs and hands.

Now that they were on the ground, any friendly flirtations and familiarities were forgotten. Everything was business once a mission started. It was something James did automatically. It had taken Wanda a little longer to figure out how to separate herself from it all, but she'd gotten better.

It's why so many heroes had alter egos for when they were in battle. It helped to remind them that they weren't always like this. The person they were in uniform was not everything about them.

According to the coordinates, they landed in the park in front of Independence Hall. It was late, past visiting hours for any of the national monuments, so there were few witnesses and light security.

She and James stuck to the trees until they got to the actual building where America's greatest and first government documents were signed. Wanda knew that only from the debriefing. She wasn't American. And she wasn't a woman without a country like Natasha. Wanda was forever going to be a Sokovian, and she was proud of that fact.

And James never seemed to mind.

They clung to the side of the large stone building before they moved across the barren street to another city block.

"The Liberty Bell is just up ahead," James said low as their boots hit the next park area. There were fewer trees here and they had to find the closest ones to hide under the shadows of.

"I see the building," Wanda said, her eyes glowing red. "There are no guards."

"None?"

"Not alive. There is someone standing at the corner of the road."

She could still make out James's cybernetic arm even with the lack of streetlights. There were some missions in which it was better to be hidden; covert missions where having a former enemy of the state running around was bad for business. But tonight, his entire arm was out in the air, showing the expert manufacturing that T'Challa's younger sister had made. It was even more fluid and lifelike than the one made by Zola and HYDRA. It was a weapon, but it was beautiful.

"I don't know why someone would want to steal a bell that is broken," Wanda whispered.

James frowned into the darkness. "I don't think they're here for the bell."

Before she could ask what his suspicions were, a van pulled up with screechy brakes. Concentrating, she reached out to touch the newcomers' minds. "Four men," she reported. "Their thoughts are focused, but angry. The man on the corner is joining them."

He nodded and reached his arm back, brushing against her stiff, bulletproof vest that had been sculpted to look more streamline than bulky. It still did the job for her. "Stay here. Wait for my signal."

She didn't like the idea, but didn't voice her opinions. Instead, she stayed in the shade of the first tree as James stuck to the treeline and reached the edge of the building housing the bell. From here, she could hear the men who they were here to stop. They weren't being quiet.

The man she'd felt earlier must have been sent ahead to deal with the guards.

James was a smudge of black against the gray granite building.

Wanda hated this waiting part of a mission. It was almost always necessary, especially if they got intel in at the right time. Being too early to thwart a plan was better than being too late.

Though, if the guards were dead, they'd already lost half the battle here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

FOUR AND A HALF YEARS AGO

_**Bucky** _

His memory came back in pieces. They were mismatched and never in order. So he wrote them down.

He'd started in Washington DC first, finding his face on a wall in the Smithsonian. It told him that his name was James Buchanan Barnes, and he went by Bucky.  _Bucky_? The same name that Steve Rogers called him during their first encounter about six months ago now.

He'd slipped away, going dark after the death of Pierce and most of the men who had been in charge of the last remnants of the Winter Soldier program. They'd taught him well; so well that he slipped under the radar for over six months now.

He moved often, kept down low and didn't do anything to pull attention to him.

But he had to know it would happen eventually.

He just thought he'd have more time.

_**Wanda** _

It was hard to pick up the pieces, to let Tony Stark control so much about her life. From the new Avengers Compound, he, Steve and Natasha headed the newest Avengers.

Wanda was no longer the newest. There was Vision, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, even a man called Scott Lang was on the potential list for a future recruit. The strangest of their allies was a king from a small country in Africa called Wakanda.

Steve was the most distracted of them all. It had been months, but the fall of SHIELD, almost dying on that Helicarrier, facing someone he thought long dead…it was a lot to handle. Wanda could understand that.

So when there was a bombing at a UN meeting and one James Buchanan Barnes was the main culprit, Wanda knew that Captain America would once again do anything and everything possible to try to find out what happened to his long lost friend.

Wanda crossed her arms and shared a glance with Natasha, who was leaning against the side of the van near the Quinjet prepped for flight. A few moments passed before Steve came down into the hanger.

He saw the both of them and shook his head. "I can't ask you two to come with me," he said.

"Who's asking?" Natasha shrugged.

"We are here to help you," Wanda pointed out. "If we bring your friend in—"

"He didn't do  _that_. I can't believe he would," Steve interrupted.

"Which means he's being framed," Wanda continued. "Like you were once. It would be safer to have him come here."

"Or would you like him to be tortured by layers and layers of government officials?" Natasha added.

Steve sighed and nodded. "Thank you," was all he said before he walked up the ramp into the jet.

_**Bucky** _

He didn't do this. The papers pointed fingers at him, but he hadn't even been close enough to plant a bomb at a meeting he had no idea was even happening. He was vaguely sad to have to leave his small cove he'd carved out in Bucharest, but even more frustrated at being framed for something he didn't do.

He wanted to leave that part of his life  _behind_ , yet people kept dragging him into things he wanted no part of.

He got to his apartment after Steve Rogers, but before the police.

"I don't do that anymore," was his truth and his argument.

But that didn't stop the fighting. He restrained himself enough to incapacitate, but not kill. He didn't want to go with Steve; he didn't want to be arrested in Romania. Didn't anyone understand that he just wanted to be  _left alone_?

_**Wanda** _

Wanda didn't join into the battle until she saw the alleged bomber leap from one building window to the roof of the other. The roof that she just happened to be stationed on. She hid behind one of the large ducts and waited for the man to grab his backpack before she stepped out.

Time seemed to slow as he spotted her, rearing himself for a fight, but she gripped his arms like magical handcuffs and slammed him back with a wave of energy.

He growled, trying to fight.

"Stop," she told him, stepping fully out. She wasn't dressed as a civilian today. This was supposed to help the appearance of the Avengers to the rest of the world: they were here to help, and to handle superpowered people. "You'll just make the situation worse if you fight."

He grit his teeth as she got closer and her power pushed him down against the concrete roof. Little cracks spiderwebbed from where he was lying. "Who the hell are you?" he finally asked.

She tilted her head, her hands enveloped by sparkling red mist. "Wanda," she replied honestly. "I know Steve."

He laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. "You're here to take me in?"

"Yes. It's safer for you to be with us."

"Who told you that?"

She was quiet. The temptation to dive into his mind was strong, but now wasn't the time. She didn't do that anymore. Not unless it was a bad guy and the man in front of her was not a bad guy. Not like that.

"Just let me go."

Wanda shook her head. "I can't."

The sound of boots hitting the roof came all of a sudden as Steve arrived on the other side of the roof. "Bucky, please come with us. We can protect you."

"I don't need protection," Bucky Barnes insisted. "You need protection from me."

She didn't like it, but Steve gave her the signal and she sent a tiny blast of power toward the captive man's mind, knocking him out. She released his body and stepped back, rubbing her hands together.

"I did not like that," she said as Steve walked closer.

"We all have to do things we're not comfortable doing sometimes," was all Steve said.

 

 

 

 

 

PRESENT

_**Bucky** _

He could see a pair of combat boots belonging to one of the two security guards around the corner, and the other body was right next to the wall he was using for cover. If Wanda couldn't sense their minds, they were dead.

Casualties in a seemingly pointless battle. There was nothing special about the Liberty Bell unless it was somehow an alien weapon forgotten for centuries on Earth until now.

Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the universe to throw a curveball like that.

They could be after something buried beneath the monument. It could be some kind of Free Masons or Illuminate treasure hunt. Or they could be here just to graffiti the bell.

The killing of the guards was too excessive for the latter, but Bucky let himself think about it anyway.

As much as he complained about being given this mission, he would still treat it as dire as any other. Because, if the Avengers had to get involved, it was usually with good cause.

He heard voices. It sounded like four of them. They weren't trying to be stealthy. A fifth must be in the van as the getaway driver. To get away from what, Bucky wasn't sure.

But something in his gut told him that they weren't here just for the bell. Wanda was right. Who would steal a broken bell? If the Russian coming from their lips was evidence enough, they were foreign and there were plenty of better monuments they could steal to stick it to the USA. Hell, usually Russians went straight for a person rather than an object when it came to getting the attention of the US government.

Frowning, Bucky glanced around the corner again to make a quick assessment. The men were loud and proud, boasting about how easy this was going.

One of them had some tech in hand that Bucky didn't recognize.

"Spread out," one of them said. "Keep watch."

Bucky moved back two silent steps, melting into the shadows where trees met granite. He briefly hoped Wanda was hidden enough. Her uniform wasn't clown red, but it wasn't black like his.

Wanda had been an Avenger longer than him. She could handle herself and they both knew it.

Just one man came to this side of the building. Inside, Bucky could hear the echoed sound of one of the men explaining the tech to another.

"Someone has to steady this part," he was saying. "We could blow up this whole place if we don't have two on this."

The other grumbled but stayed.

One man to check out Bucky's side of the building, another to stay closer to the street. This was too easy.

Bucky waited until the man stepped onto the red brick walkway. He wasn't a large man, but his nose had been broken a few times. His stance and walk didn't scream police or Special Forces, so Bucky would barely have to break a sweat.

Stepping back purposefully to make sound, Bucky watched the man's head jerk in his direction and squint. They didn't have night vision goggles. The monument was kept lit up, so they hadn't anticipated needing them.

Bucky disappeared into the darkness and waited for the man to come closer. He did, pulling out a pistol with a silencer on the end. They weren't dumb, these men, but Bucky had gone up against much smarter men most of his life.

Once the man was out of the light and sight of anyone inside the monument, Bucky struck out with metallic fingers against the man's throat so he couldn't call out. He choked, one hand going to his neck, but Bucky was faster than the man's trigger finger. Nearly crushing the barrel in his hand, Bucky tossed the weapon into the grass without a sound, wrenching the man forward and grabbing him in a headlock. The man scrambled for any foot or handhold to get out, but he passed out before he could even land a punch.

It was almost too easy.

Keeping focused, he moved just enough into the light so that the men inside would think he was their own.

"We're cutting here, not there," the one in charge of the tech said. Frustration bubbled up within the already harsh sounding language.

Bucky frowned and glanced toward where Wanda was hidden in the trees. He didn't have superior vision, and none of the light was reaching that far into the night. Knowing she would be able to see, he lifted his other arm and then twisted on his heel.

The building wasn't really a building: it was a very sturdy and short open corridor, with the Liberty Bell roped off in the middle so it could be seen from all sides and be protected from the adverse effects of the weather. Two men were crouched at the far right corner, the smell of burning stone lingering in the air from the machine between them.

Across the corridor, the other guard had his back to Bucky, looking off into the darkness leading to the street. A moment later, Bucky saw a flash of red in the night. Wanda had obviously seen his signal and taken out the other guard. He was most likely having horrific dreams in a catatonic state.

Bucky shouldn't have found that so satisfying, but he did anyway. He found that if he let a little darkness in, it would lessen the blow so he didn't become overwhelmed.

Or so he told himself.

"Oh shit!" The man in charge of the machine spotted Bucky and stood, letting out a few rounds that Bucky ricocheted off his arm. They dug into the stone walls and pinged off the bell.

"Well done, Mister Barnes," the other said, standing and leaving their cutting machine to smolder on the ground.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. The man didn't look familiar and he appeared to be the least physically powerful of all of the men. But he knew Bucky's name, and that was never, ever a good thing.

"How are you tonight, Soldier?"

 

 

 

 

 

FOUR YEARS AGO

_**Bucky** _

His name clear, Bucky got used to the solitary life within the Avengers Compound. Steve tried. Even Natasha tried to get a spark of recognition from his eyes—in fact, he remembered exactly the bullet that left the mark that marred her skin. No one else knew him or cared enough to try.

Today, when his door opened after a knock, he was expecting Steve again. Instead, he was faced with the young woman who had taken him down on that rooftop in Bucharest.

"Wanda, right?" he said. His room was nice and tidy. He had no belongings besides the journal he kept with his memories.

She came in with a tray of food. Instead of immediately going to him, she went to the small metal table, set down the tray and sat down, tucking one leg underneath her on the chair. "Yes," she said, grabbing one of the utensils on the tray. "You tried to kill me once."

"Says everyone in the Avengers," Bucky commented.

She barely smiled, but he saw it before she dipped a spoon into the bowl and lifted it to her lips. "Steve wanted to try a new tactic," she said, not looking over at him. "You're not speaking much with him or Natasha. So they sent me."

"Because you have that mind voodoo?"

"No. Because you have no connection to me." She tossed long brown hair over her shoulder and twisted in the chair, looking at him in the first time. "So, do you want to talk about it?"

He would be lying if he said he wasn't interested. She wasn't coddling him the way Steve always tried. She wasn't looking at him with a strange mix of intrigue and pity like Natasha Romanoff.

"Talk about what?"

With a sigh, she lifted her hand and red misty magic curled around her fingers that she moved in a jarring, stiff kind of way that would have been creepy if it wasn't the least terrifying thing he'd seen in his life. "My brother and I wanted to stop a war in our country," she said, looking at her hand, transfixed. "So we volunteered to gain power from powerful men. What the men did…they used something alien to transform us. I was just an angry girl and now I'm an Avenger."

"Who did that to you?"

"The same people who did that to you." She nodded toward his cybernetic arm. "The same people who made you forget who you are, who made you do things that weren't in your control."

Buck kept quiet.

"You could be helping people. You could be stopping more of the people who destroyed your life, my life, the lives of millions. And yet you're sitting here. You haven't even thought of joining us on the front lines."

Bucky scoffed, standing. He needed to move. He paced around the room. "You say that like it's an easy decision. What did you do, Wanda, with what they did to you? Did you kill hundreds of people with your bare hands? Because that's what they made me do."

She sighed and ate a bit more of her…lunch? He wasn't sure what time it was. "I joined up with an evil robot who almost destroyed my entire home city. Hundreds did die. Thousands more would have if it weren't for the Avengers. And my…my brother died there."

She stopped and played with the hem of her skirt with nimble fingers. "His name was Pietro. We were twins…are…I never know if him being gone means I'm no longer a twin." She stood then, facing him and stopping him in his tracks. "I felt him die as if it was  _me_. I wanted to give up, to die with him because I didn't think there was anything left for me in the world. I wanted it to end there."

Steve was right with this tactic and Bucky curled his hands into fists as Wanda got under his skin.

"You feel as if you don't deserve to go on. That you are not…redeemable."

"I'm not worth putting everyone at risk."

"Why not?"

He didn't have an answer that she didn't already know. He had too much blood on his hands. His mind wasn't totally his own. So what else was there besides that?

"James?"

"It's Bucky," he said without thinking. His brow furrowed.

"Bucky doesn't sound like a name."

"It's a nickname. Do you have those…where you're from?"

"Sokovia," she offered. "We do have nicknames, but they're not like that. They're nonsense things that you gain as a child or call your siblings to upset them."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Why wouldn't you want to be called by your given name? Wasn't it given to you by your parents?"

"Sure."

"Okay then." She turned around and grabbed what was left of her lunch. "I hope you think about actively joining the Avengers. I feel as if you could do a lot of good with us,  _James_."

With that, she gave him a quick smile and disappeared, closing the door behind her.

Bucky stood in the middle of his room, mulling it over, trying to make a decision. Was his own redemption worth the possibility of harming those who were trying to help him?

 

 

 

 

 

PRESENT

_**Wanda** _

With her back pressed against the stone, she listened to a conversation that she could only pick up bits and pieces of. A word here or there that was similar to Sokovian, a word or two that James taught her.

She squeezed her hands into fists at the muffled gunshots. Knowing if she went in too early, it could backfire, so she stayed out by the unconscious guard and waited.

But then she heard a very distinct Russian word, one she knew almost as well as Bucky:

"Longing."

She felt as if she had been ducked in an ice bucket.

"Rusted."

Emotions clouded her judgment and she stepped into the light.

"Seventeen."

Hands sparking red, Wanda grabbed both men in a tight grip. The one not speaking squeaked in surprise.

"Daybreak."

The man squeezed off a few more rounds. Wanda stopped them with a shield, the metal melting to the ground.

"Furnace."

Eyes glowing, the gun in the man's hand came apart into all of its pieces.

"Nine. Benign."

Flinging nightmares at the now gunless man, Wanda let him fall to the ground in a slump and focused her attention on the man speaking.

"Homecoming."

"James," Wanda said sharply, because he was just  _standing there_  letting this man say these things. He looked so calm and she wanted to scream.

He shook his head sharply, his eyes telling her to stand down.

Wanda kept her hold on the Russian but didn't squeeze as hard as he came to the end.

"One. Freight car."

She held her breath as the man spoke one more word:

"Soldier?"

 

 

 

 

 

THREE YEARS AGO

_**Wanda** _

Everyone was in this fight. Every Avenger they could scrounge up, including Clint Barton, who kept telling everyone he was retired. They were spread across the city, just trying to hold on until the threat was eliminated.

Wanda grabbed cars and smashed them against enemies. Explosions rocked the ground. One of the buildings nearby started to collapse, and she did her best to hold it until everyone was out of the way. As it came down in dust and debris, Wanda's eyes widened.

Someone fell through the sky, from higher than anyone could survive. She saw a flash of metal but was too late to catch him with her magic.

"No!" she screamed, pushing her way through the battlefield. "James!"

She skidded across rubble in the street, her eyes on his form on the ground. Landing on her knees, her hands bitten by gravel.

"Not again," she said softly, just as he sucked in a breath and coughed. Eyes widening, she pulled herself forward. "You're not hurt?"

He winced and pushed himself up to a sitting position. "I've got a botched Super Soldier Serum pumping through my veins. I can take a hit."

She smiled and sat back on her heels. "Please do  _not_  do that again."

"Were you worried about me?"

Wanda blinked away the gloss over her eyes and reached toward his face. His smooth skin and short clipped hair brushed under her fingertips.

Something hit her heavily from behind, gripping the small of her back and sending volts of electricity through her body. She let out a scream of pain and fell just as someone grabbed Bucky's head sharply from behind.

Wanda would have screamed again if she could but she was trying her hardest to focus on dismantling the device attacking her.

The man was speaking words in a language close to Sokovian, but not quite.

"желание. Ржaвый. Семнадцать. Рассвет. Печь. Девять."

James yelled and fought, but someone had pinned down his arms.

"добросердечный. возвращение на родину. Один. грузовой вагон."

The machine on Wanda's back broke and she gasped, gripping the ground in front of her. "James?" she panted.

Something came over him, a gate behind his eyes. After all of that, and she had still lost him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

PRESENT

_**Bucky** _

He should have been terrified. A part of him was, but a larger part wanted to see if it  _worked_. Neither he nor Wanda had been willing to try it. The file had been obliterated, no one else was supposed to know those words that could turn him into a HYDRA assassin.

Wanda knew what the words were. They may be the only Russian words she'd never forget. She came jumping to his aid and he commended her for it.

But he needed to know.

If it didn't work, Wanda could take him down. She'd done it before.

"One," the man said. He didn't bat an eyelash when Wanda's magic curled around him like a giant's fist, immobilizing him. He continued on with a mad look in his eye. "Freight car."

Bucky waited, staying calm, trying not to remember what it felt like all the times before. If he didn't remember, maybe it wouldn't hit him so hard.

He steeled himself, ready to feel what made him  _him_  slip away as if he were drowning in water. Like always, he was ready to thrash and fight, even if it ended like it always did, in death and destruction.

Wanda squeezed and the Russian's bones creaked. His head was starting to turn a little red.

"Soldier?" he asked, continuing the trigger phrase.

Bucky sucked in a breath. He knew instinctively what he should say, what came next.

Except it didn't.

Instead of being  _ready to comply_ , Bucky Barnes smirked, dark and dangerous, and the man paled. He could almost hear Wanda's sigh of relief as she eased her hold on the man.

Bucky stalked forward as the man raced to get the sequence of words out again, as if thinking he'd missed a word rather than the unthinkable: the Winter Soldier was gone and all that was left was James Buchanan Barnes.

"Not this time," Bucky growled out, grabbing the man by the throat and lifting him inches off the ground.

"We should keep him alive," Wanda said, walking into his line of sight. "He may be a part of something bigger. We don't know."

The trigger phrase wasn't a problem now, but that didn't mean that the people set on destroying him were completely gone. HYDRA was a slippery snake and they wouldn't disappear so easily.

Knowing she was right, Bucky threw the man, sending him colliding with the granite wall. He slumped to the ground with a groan but lay still.

"It worked," Wanda said after a few seconds of silence. She closed the few paces between them, one hand squeezing his flesh arm through his shirt, the other touching his face, grounding him to this very moment. "How do you feel?"

He wasn't sure he knew any words to rightfully describe how he was feeling. "I…I feel fine," he said. He was surprised, relieved, exhausted. No longer would he have that hanging over his head. Never again could another person hold his will and treat him like a puppet. "I'm finally free."

Her expression softened and she took his head in both of her hands. "I can't believe it actually worked."

"You're a miracle," he said, feeling lighter and more hopeful than he had since before World War II.

He caught her smile before he pulled her close, gloved hand cupping the back of her head, cybernetic arm circling around her back. She hugged him back just as tightly, allowing themselves a moment of peace.

 

 

 

 

 

TWO YEARS AGO

_**Bucky** _

"James, please."

He grit his teeth and shook his head sharply. This wasn't like before. He scarcely remembered a  _before_  but this was different. He could feel it, deep in his bones.

On his knees, he struggled with his anger, his fear, the words that rewrote his every thought.

"I do…not comply," he struggled to get out. To reset his own brain.

"Please," Wanda said again, struggling for air, his hand around her throat. She could use her magic against him; she had that, he knew, and yet she let him press his hand against her windpipe.

"Wanda…"

"You are…more than what they make you." She grabbed his wrist with her hands and squeezed.

His grip lessened, the fight around them simmering as the Avengers took out the last of the Russians playing puppet with Bucky. It was his fault they were all here, wounded and suffering.

Sucking in a breath, Bucky stumbled back and smashed his cybernetic fist into the concrete, cracking it under his knuckles.

Wanda gasped to life behind him, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry it took so long to find you," she said just before she yelled. Up above, Tony blasted at Bucky, severing his arm completely from his body. "No!"

Getting to her feet, Wanda clenched her jaw and created a field above Bucky. He stared at the red, felt the lack of his arm  _again_  and he stayed down.

His breath came short and ragged.

"James." Wanda fell to her knees, eyes bright red. She reached a hand toward the tangled, charred mess of wires that was what was left of his left arm.

"Hey," he breathed out before falling unconscious.

_**Wanda** _

He was asleep for days. They tended what was left of his arm and made plans to make him a new one. The world was in an uproar at the Winter Soldier's return, after it was promised he was under the control of the Avengers.

Wanda ignored the news stations and came up with a plan.

When James finally woke, Wanda saw him after Steve and after official statements were given to Natasha. He was in an infirmary room of his own, though he didn't need to be hooked up to machines. His hair had grown a bit longer again, and he looked even worse than when they'd first found him, back when Wanda, Steve and Natasha were criminals for a death that didn't actually happen.

"Hi," she said, simply because she was nervous and didn't know if she could help him this time.

"Wanda." James frowned as she came closer. "I'm so sorry."

Her hand moved to her neck, which still showed the bruises from his grip. "I should be the one apologizing. It took us so long to find you after…" She paused at his bedside, at the gap on the bed where his arm should be.

"They kept me laid low. It wasn't your fault. It's…mine. I told all of you that this would happen. That I was dangerous to be around for all of you."

She frowned. "I've been thinking. Those words…there are words that can make you do what someone else wants?"

"Basically. It's a phrase they'd use to reset my brain every time they wiped it or woke me up by cryosleep. It's…imprinted, up here." He waved flesh fingers toward his head.

"They're in your head."

"Yeah. I can't control it."

"I can get rid of that."

His eyes snapped to hers. "What?"

"I can manipulate people's minds. Quite thoroughly now, actually. If you trust me, I can see what I can do to help you so this never happens again." This was what she'd been planning for days. Everything clicked once they found him again, and she had been doing all she could to practice and research the type of brainwashing HYRDA had put James through.

"Do you think it will work?"

She took in a deep breath. "There is only one way to find out. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, I do," he said with no hesitation.

She smiled and nodded. "Try to relax."

"I'm missing an arm. That's kind of stressful," he teased.

Wanda tried to keep a straight face. "Please, James."

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Okay, okay." He closed his eyes as Wanda gently set her hands against the soft fabric of his cotton shirt.

"Trust me," she said again. "And clear your mind."

She had never done anything like this before. She was used to bringing people's nightmares to the forefronts of their brains, but that wasn't what she was trying to do here. She had to try to be surgical.

It was all or nothing.

Bucky's mind was like nothing she'd touched or seen into before. It was ragged and scarred and it hurt her to think he was living like this,  _with this_. She dove through the pain.

She saw him as a kid with Steve in Brooklyn. In art classes—he was there for the nude models but Steve was actually interested in  _art_ —and seeing Howard Stark and going to the frontlines of the war. His captivity under the Red Skull's orders, the experiments that started this whole mess to begin with…leaving him a little bit broken. His fall from that train in the mountains stabbed at her like a knife through her conscious, but she pushed on, knowing she was getting close.

The memories came less fluid now.

A room full of doctors. A new, painful metal arm. And that phrase, introduced but not yet perfected. Sleeping in ice, being thawed and awoken. Painful surgeries to change his arm. Over and over. The phrase, those Russian words echoed through her mind. Within James's own conscious, she knew the English translations, and tired to piece together what significance they had to him.

Slowly, she began to pluck things away, separating them from the rest of the memories, as if she were carefully taking out stitches on a piece of clothing. She pulled at them and did her best to heal some wounds along the way.

It wasn't easy. And while to James it only felt like a few minutes, to Wanda, it felt as if she were working for hours.

When she finally gasped, her eyes opening widely, glowing red, she grasped the words she'd syphoned from the rest of his memory and took them away. She didn't know if it worked, and she was feeling all of James's pain too realistically to do more than wipe tears from her cheeks.

"Did it work?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Wanda just shook her head, took his head in her hands and kissed him. It was a surprise to both of them, but neither of them stopped or resisted. "You have been through so much," she said, her voice low, staring deep into his eyes.

"Yeah." He lifted and rested his hand on her side, the warmth from his skin seeping through her top. "What did you see?"

"Everything," she said, sadness swimming behind hazel eyes.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Tell me you'll stay with us. With the Avengers. Please," Wanda pleaded.

"Everyone wants me to stay. So…why the hell not." He shrugged as she sat on the edge of the gurney and rested her hands on his chest. "Dunno how much use I'll be with just one arm, but I'm sure I can figure it out."

She couldn't quite put a finger to her feelings, but she knew that they were good and sad and she didn't want to let them go. She didn't want to let James go, ever again. "I can help with that," she said, because she was already thinking of ways. She may tolerate Tony Stark, but she wasn't sure if she trusted him to make a new arm for James. But there were other ways at the fingertips of the scarlet powered Avenger.

"I hope you do," James said softly, curling his fingers around her wrist gently.

 

 

 

 

 

PRESENT

_**Wanda** _

Her relief was nothing compared to what James was feeling, but that didn't stop her from feeling it. With all five of the men—the one waiting in the van had been easy to take down—tied up in the back of the van, they waited for ground transport.

Wanda leaned against one of the benches. James had gone to get them some pizza, certain that there would be at least one place open at nearly one in the morning.

Knowing that part of her relief was because she had actually been able to save someone she cared about didn't soil the feeling. The loss of her brother would never go away. The guilt would eventually dissipate, but she would never fully accept what happened. But she created a new family with the Avengers, surprisingly. Her animosity toward Tony Stark had also lessened, and the other Avengers were as close to a family she would ever have again.

And now, maybe with this one thing hanging over both of their heads  _gone_ , James would decide to stay. Or maybe they'd freelance  _together_. There were plenty of supers who worked in duo or trios. Clint often freelanced but always came when a bigger threat came about in the world.

Anything was possible now.

A soft smile on her face from all of the possibilities, Wanda glanced up when she heard an arrival.

"See, I told you," James stepped around the van, balancing a pizza box on his hand. "It's no Philly Cheesesteak but it'll do."

"That does not sound appetizing," she confessed, crinkling her nose as he came to sit on the bench.

He gasped and raised a silver hand to his chest. "You wound me," he teased.

She grinned and sat down, unable to keep her emotions off of her face. The steamy box was filled with chewy, cheesy goodness, of which she grabbed a piece and blew on the end so she didn't burn the roof of her mouth.

"I still can't believe that worked," she said. "I've never tried anything like that before. Anything could have happened."

James pulled off his glove and tucked it into one of the buckles at his side so he didn't get it all greasy. "Did I ever properly thank you for what you did?"

"A few times," she mused, then tilted her head to the side. "Although that was before we knew it had worked."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, munching away. He looked more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time. Occasionally, she would catch him relaxing at the Compound, but he always snapped back. Maybe this would be a new beginning where he could just be himself without worrying about another person controlling him.

"Now that we know, is that going to change things?" she asked, ripping apart the crust and popping little pieces into her mouth.

"It will," he replied immediately. "No more looking over my shoulder. No more fear. No more possibility of someone taking control of me again. I can finally do something with what's left of my life." He tilted his head up to the stars and closed his eyes.

Wanda didn't say anything, just watched him, tracing his profile in the night. The soft curls of hair above his ears, his strong jaw, a prickling of scruff. Her eyes trailed down to his arm, shining under the dull yellow streetlight nearby.

"See something interesting, Miss Maximoff?"

Wanda huffed a laugh and shook her head. "I haven't seen you this relaxed in a very long time. It is nice to see."

"It feels good," he nodded, grabbing another slice.

They finished off the small pizza in a flash. He folded and shoved the box in the nearby trash bin and Wanda scrubbed her fingers and her mouth with napkins before walking over to the van. She rapt on the side, but heard nothing. The men were all still unconscious inside. At least she knew that she and James were efficient, even on a stealth mission.

"The pickup team should be here any minute," James said joining her by the van.

"This has been an exciting night," she replied, taking a few steps closer to the streetlamp.

"Yeah. And it would have had an entirely different outcome if not for you." He caught her hand gently in his ungloved hand as she swung it backward.

"You give me too much credit, James," she insisted as they faced one another.

Instead of arguing, he only smiled and lifted his cybernetic hand to tuck hair behind her ear. "This is a proper thank you," he said, leaning in, "since we know it works now."

He caught Wanda's laugh with his lips and she caved, twining her arms around his neck and breathing him in.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm picturing that end scene as if it were a comic strip and crying because it's so cute and would look so good drawn by Phil Noto.


End file.
